


Christmas Sweaters

by Dormchi



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Drabble, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Slash, Ugly Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-08 00:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dormchi/pseuds/Dormchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam introduces Castiel to the ugly Christmas sweater tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Sweaters

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this after Christmas! Woops! Written for a prompt on tumblr.

“I don’t understand this tradition, Sam.”

“It’s an ugly sweater gift. The whole point is to pick out the ugliest Christmas sweater you can find and gift it to someone,” Sam explains helpfully, tugging his own sweater over his head. Dean had helped Cas pick it out, insisting that the first sweater the angel had come up with would’ve made Sam look like a Gucci model, and that was definitely not going to happen on his watch. The ugly sweater that had made it into a box was a pale green color with an acid trip worthy picture of Santa’s head on the front, trimmed with itchy red tinsel and fur around the neck. Sam had opened the box and was honestly speechless at the sight of it.

“But why?” Cas rumbles, tilting his head to the side as he considers his own ugly sweater. Sam sits on the bed and smiles fondly at the angel. He should’ve known that the mysterious workings of the ugly Christmas sweater tradition would make Castiel ask questions. He doesn’t completely understand it himself, and when Sam catches sight of himself in the mirror, even given all day to adjust to the idea, he recoils a little.

_Dean outdid himself. This thing is really damn ugly._

At this rate, they’re never going to make it out of the room. They haven’t even made it to pants yet, and Sam doesn’t particularly mind, admiring the light trail of dark hair on Castiel’s belly and the soft jut of his hipbones just over the waistband of his boxers.

“It’s supposed to be funny,” Sam says as he discreetly adjusts himself in his boxer-briefs.

And well, Sam starts to feel a little bit guilty about the whole thing when Castiel pulls his sweater on. There’s small plastic ornaments hanging from the faded red fabric, and an amorphous carpet of synthetic green material (that Sam _thinks_ is supposed to be shaped like a Christmas tree) stretches from the neck of the sweater to the hem. He can’t stop the laughter that bubbles up in his throat, and he feels a little relieved when Cas smiles at him.

“How do I look?” Castiel asks, holding his arms out and shrugging.

In two fluid motions, Sam sits up and slides to the edge of the bed. He reaches out with one long arm and finds Castiel’s hand where it’s hidden inside the too-long sleeve, lacing their fingers together as he pulls Cas on to his lap.

“You look perfect,” Sam assures quietly, and their lips are close enough that they’re sharing each breath. He slides his long fingers through Castiel’s perpetually mussed hair and smiles at the little appreciative moan that escapes his parted lips.

“Would it be uncomfortable to… for you to hold me while I’m wearing this?”

It takes a few tries, but they manage to arrange themselves so they’re lying pressed against one another, Sam spooned against Castiel’s back with one arm wrapped around the angel’s waist and the other underneath the pillow. Sam pushes his nose into Castiel’s hair and inhales deeply, and he wonders selfishly if they can just stay like this for the rest of the night, even though he’s itchier than he’s ever been and he’s pretty sure Cas isn’t faring much better.

“There’s another gift hidden under the bed.” His deep voice is muffled from talking partially into the pillow, but Cas threads his fingers through the spaces between Sam’s and continues. “Dean advised me not to buy the original sweater, but I thought you should have it. I think it will suit you.”

Sam props himself up on his elbow, and Cas turns his head so he can look up. His cheeks are flushed slightly from what Sam assumes is embarrassment, blue eyes dark and half-lidded. The look is so endearing on Cas that it makes Sam’s chest ache a little. He’ll have to consider what that means later.

“Merry Christmas, Cas.”

He interrupts the gruff reply with a kiss.


End file.
